


Five times Gandalf Was Surprised by the Lady Galadriel and One Time He Wasn't.

by Tresapes



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16666060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tresapes/pseuds/Tresapes
Summary: He would swear she took enjoyment in the fact that her time worn power far surpasses his in this world where he, apparently, must keep it all contained.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how this story came to be. I just love how the relationship between those two amazing characters was portrayed in The Hobbit. Completely Ian and Cate's idea btw. 
> 
> I love Tolkien's work. However, having said that, I don't care much about the specifics, so please, don't bombard me with crazy facts from the Silmarillion. It's been years since I read it, and I'm not looking for precision here. I just want to write a story about two characters I love. I hope you'll like it!

 

 

 Third Age: Year 1000- 2463

 

He had just arrived in this world and was already worn thin. This form felt fragile, breakable. As if a vail had trapped an avalanche. He felt as though he would tumble outside of himself at any moment. To make matters worse, the gift of Cirdan lay heavy in his pocket. He knew its power, he did not yet dare use it. He was grateful for the illusion of weakness those first years he spent on Middle-Earth. It took him quite some time to get used to this world. He travelled, an old man who could perform tricks for the people’s enjoyment. As he managed to gain a better grasp to his current state of existence, and his surroundings, he began to work on his task. He was inquisitive, witty, and offered sound advice. What’s more, he began to understand the importance of his task, in seeing the beauty in the beings around him.

600 years among the Elves, Humans, Dwarves, had earned him many names, and much wisdom. During the years of the Great Plague, he earned much respect for the assistance he offered to common folk, but not as much from their Lords, who thought his presence needlessly meddlesome. He had not yet revealed himself, even if the head of his order had. The humans and dwarves were too detached from the divine to know, and the elves seemed to have forgotten. In secrecy he found solitude. 

It was frightening, and exhilarating, when some nights alone as he was in the wilderness, he dreamt of a voice that seemed to know him. Whispered things he had not known, or offered words of comfort.

Almost a thousand years pass. He is much more weathered in these lands. He gains confidence in his knowledge of the hearts of the people. What’s more, he wishes to help them. But approaching the elders has to be done with delicacy, this, he knows well. Saruman does not think very highly of him, but he does seek his council, from time to time. Dark forces seem to be growing. After the fall of Moria, as he watches the dwarves flee in horror, he knows, it is time for him to seek the elders.

He has heard of the Lady Galadriel. When he learns of her travel to assist her people in Lothlorien, where the lands of the elves are now surrounded by the Nazgul, he decides to go to Lorien and meet her. As he reaches the forest, his soul soars in ways he did not expect. A great power is at work, and makes the trees shine with star light. This is now the kingdom of the Lady of Light. He knows this power deep within himself, the memory of Valinor, it makes his soul rest. He almost regrets not having seeked this meeting sooner. As he walked beneath those trees, millions of thoughts swim through his mind, he is still wary of what he will encounter. But from deep within himself, he felt a surge of assurance that he had not felt before. 

He almost gave up hope, in the guards allowing him to walk past the gate to the residence of the Lords, when he felt a shift in the air and looked up, only to be greeted by blinding white light. He shielded his eyes but all he managed to see were the guards stepping back.

“Would it ease your pain, Mithrandir, to know that at least this land is now safe from the shadows?”

 Gandalf’s head was still bent in respect.

“Please, do not pay respects. You of all people should know. I am only Galadriel, and her I shall remain, till the end of my days.”

He couldn’t but gaze up to her in reverence and awe, such was the strength of her beauty and presence. When his eyes met hers, he realised what a fool he had been, for her bright eyes looked at him knowingly. Apparently, nothing could remain hidden under her watchful presence, a fact he should have realised long before now. 

She smiled, slightly, and raised her hand. As he reached for it, to kiss in greeting, the moment his fingers touched hers he was struck. For his soul recognised in hers a kindred spirit. And suddenly the last 1500 years had not been as solitary as he imagined them to have been, her person now realised as present in his mind. Blast this existence and its endless limitations. 

“Thank you, my lady, for making this day a blessed one, in gracing an old man such as myself with your presence.”

Her smile turned mischievous as she replied. 

“Come Mithrandir, there is much to be discussed, and you must rest.”

They did not speak much as she led the way through the palace, for they did not need to. It brought a smile to his face, to be known, and understood. 

The elves welcomed him warmly, shared their meals and lodgings. And when it was time to speak with their lady, he already knew where to go.

A small clearing among the trees, a secret haven, a lake with crystal clear water, and Galadriel standing on its edge staring ahead.

“You wish to seek my council, but I’m afraid, there isn’t much I can say that you do not already know.”

“My lady, you, above all others, must see the change that reaches us.”

“All things belong to a time and a place. You arrived here, when you were supposed to. I wished to have avoided this, but it cannot be.” 

“There is a great darkness growing, I fear it might be the worst we could suspect, we need to act, as soon as possible.”

The lady’s hands hold on to his, and in that moment, a form of peace returns to his mind, for which he is thankful.

“I can feel you are already in torment. The loss of life we suffered in Moria has hurt you deeply. Would you take on this task, for the sake of Middle-Earth?”

“Me, my lady?”

“The lord Saruman will not heed my council, and the Lord Elrond puts the safety of his people above all others. Without their support, we cannot begin an expedition.”

Gandalf nods solemnly. “I will act as I ought.”

The lady looked at him solemnly. “You have chosen a strange life to lead on this world, Mithrandir, why?”

“I do not wish to aid or harm, those unknown to me. I now know my place in this world.”

“And is that place not to lead them in glorious victory?”

“I only wish to offer council when needed, I find that the goodness in their hearts is what will lead the way to the light.”

Galadriel’s smile was warm like morning light. “I wish to offer you help. Will you take it?”

“I would not refuse you anything, my lady.” He said before he even realised what it was he was saying. Her hand set over his closed fist, within which he suddenly felt a tiny flutter.

“Hold on to this. It will bring you light, when the goodness of your heart leads you to battle with dark forces.”

Words could never express the gratitude of his heart, he simply nodded, and hoped she understood. 

He remained in Lorien for 2 more days. He spent them in the company of Celeborn and Galadriel, and it was a time spent among friends. When it was time for him to depart, it was somewhat with a heavy heart. But as he embarked on yet another dangerous journey, he happily realised the lady’s presence was strong within him.

_“You are not alone, Mithrandir.”_


	2. Political Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second instalment is here! Lots of Galadriel/Celeborn interactions that I hope you'll enjoy. I love them together, even though we haven't gotten much originally from Tolkien.

He was present, when the dwarves settled in the Lonely Mountain. Durin’s Folk were in grief, far away from the mountains of Moria, their ancestral home. But, if anything could be said for them, it would be that they were an enduring sort, with a long memory. While it’s a fact of the nature of dwarves, that their patience for outsiders easily wears thin when treasure is not involved, Galdalf managed to be a part of their travelling group, allowed to assist them if possible. They had grown accustomed to his presence over the years, even if begrudgingly so. For Lady Galadriel had proclaimed him a _friend_ , and if there was ever an elf the dwarves respected, or at least didn’t dare contradict, it would be the Lady of Light herself. Second only to Celebrimbor, perhaps. His shared love for their craft, and the lady’s persistence on the unity among their people (a persistence that could not be denied), was what had allowed both their kingdoms to prosper. 

But that was all part of history now, and as Gandalf watched for weeks on end as the dwarves struggled to create a home in the mountain’s caverns, he doubted he and the elven lady would gaze upon the glory of Khazad-dum again, at least, not for a very long time. 

Last he was in Lorien, some 10 years past, Gondor had recently become adrift, without a ruler, and Gandalf found he needed guidance, for something ought to be done for that kingdom of Men. While normally he would have turned to Saruman, he found himself readily responding to the lady calling him to Lorien instead. Her and the Lord Celeborn had taken it upon themselves to assist Gandalf in his task, and their resources were available to his questioning mind. He had spent months on end learning about the history of this world, from the people that lived it. 

Upon his arrival he had been welcomed with the light and warmth he learned to associate with the Golden Wood. But he found its Lady troubled. The depths of Moria were present in her mind once again. Coloured by her grief over Amroth’s death, her thoughts were still set on the mountain. As they were standing next to her ever challenging mirror, the lady could find no peace. She stood as still as a statue, but in her voice the emotion was strong.

“It frustrates me, this future just out of my grasp. I can see the shifts that have set in motion what will determine the fate of this world. Gondor, Moria, the shadow above Dol Guldur. If it is all as you say, and as I see, then it has already begun.”

Gandalf could feel a force of anger as mighty the Sea’s great waves radiate through the ground, and the wood of the trees. He might as well have been a branch upon one of those trees for all the help he could offer in this moment, as the Lady of the forest lamented for things that had been.

“Oh, for how long shall this land pay for the mistakes of the Noldor! To think, a Palantir, at the hands of the enemy. It’s only just that Feanor along with the rest of us has already been cursed, for I would have cursed him to the end of all time had he not been so.”

It was in that moment that the Lord Celeborn appeared in the clearing.

“I would have bid you good morning Mithrandir, but it would have been premature. Am I to understand my Lady, that we will have no rest, until this story of the dwarves is finished? They have caused me much calamity in the past, and they seem to find new ways of disturbing my peace, even with their absence.” 

Gandalf’s eyes widened at this speech. For it’s in his knowledge, that one does not add wood to a raging fire. Nonetheless, the lady appeared undisturbed by this greeting, lost in thoughts as she still was, leaning above her mirror. With great care the lord Celeborn reached her, standing next to her, with a calmness that seemed unseemly. He caught her hand in one of his before his spoke, his voice intimate and calming now.

“Tell me what it is you need my lady, for I cannot watch you suffer, and I find no enjoyment in being inactive during a time of need.”

And as if by a magical wind, the storm in the lady’s eyes was broken, and a smile graced her lips as she looked upon her husband with care, and upon Gandalf with mischief.

“Such pretty speech you speak my Lord. Indeed, how could I refuse such gallant offer of service. Perhaps if you’d employ that charm of yours on those our people deemed Wise, I would find rest.”

Celeborn nodded, indulgent, as he kissed his lady’s hand.

“High is the price I must pay, alas, it cannot be helped. What is it, that I must charm my way into their plans?” 

“Morgoth’s servant, the cursed dark shadow of the Deceiver, is moving. I cannot determine when he will act, but we need to prepare the Lords. We will not be deceived, or disregarded this time.”

The Lord’s eyes darkened at the mention of Sauron, his fingers flexed upon the lady’s hand, as he inclined his body in her direction, like two trees that entwined in the face of calamity they appeared in Gandalf’s mind. When Celeborn raised his head and turned away from his Lady, his expression was solemn, yet serene as he spoke.

“So it shall be then. What do you say, Mithrandir? Would you wish to accompany me on my noble quest?”

Gandalf had been quietly watching their discourse, a slight smile upon his face on witnessing the blessing that was their camaraderie, the light they seemed to emanate whenever they were in each other's presence. As he heard his name being spoken, he was startled out of his trance. It mattered not, he knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not my Lord Celeborn, as much as I might have wanted to, it seems my talents are needed elsewhere.”

“Is it so? Where will you be sending Mithrandir this time dear wife?”

The Lady laughed at her husband’s teasing tone. “I am doing no such thing, it is his will to offer guidance in this world, and such guidance the sons of Durin will need, in this journey they have decided to embark on.”

At this the Lord Celeborn decided, it was time to depart, and his voice rose in old rooted bitterness as he walked out of their haven “Dwarves! If my Sindar kin knew, what creatures the mighty daughter of the Noldor concerns herself with, not my charm, not her will, not the fear of endless darkness would persuade them to listen to a word we speak!”

The Lady turned to her mirror then, and seemed concerned once more, as if the calm breeze that had overtaken her had departed, along with her husband.

“Yes, Durin’s Folk will need your guidance, it is a long journey, and a great lot depends upon their arrival, and settlement.” She turned to Gandalf then, a sad smile on her face. “Your travels will take you far. We shall not see each other, for many years, my friend.”

He could not help the way his spirits fell at this. Still, he smiled kindly. For if he was to be apart from this blessed place for long, he wished not to dwell in misery. “I am sure it cannot be helped, for I would never ignore a chance to spend time in your presence my Lady.”

Even in this moment, as he attempted to offer council to king Thrain, the first King Under the Mountain, it was in those memories he found peace. He was far away from the Golden Wood, and still the Lady’s presence was as sure as the sun in all of Middle Earth for a ringbearer. It was a part of him now, a phantom limb offering assurance, when the times were dark.

* * *

 

It was some years later, when the signs could be ignored no longer, that he received a calling, to finally visit Dol Guldur. In secret, he and the Lords Saruman and Celeborn met. Both appeared to have returned from a battle of wits, with expressions that showed equal strain, but were glad to see him. Lord Saruman was the first to speak.

“There is not one person among those untouched by darkness, that wishes us to disturb this evil place. And yet, as the attacks on Gondor continue, and the Lord and Lady of Lorien will not give me a single day of peace, it seems disturb it we must, if only to ease the minds of those concerned with the future of this land.”

Gandalf could not bring himself to reply, for this was the leader of his order, and it was not his place to interfere, even if the gaze of Lord Celeborn was growing darker by the minute. It went unnoticed by Saruman, who spoke for a long while as was his nature, and Gandalf was charged with investigating the old stronghold of the enemy.

As they had expected, there was more dwelling there than old shadows. The presence of darkness was strong, and his own was unwelcome. Yet it was by the grace of blessed light, that he managed to battle against the cursed demons of the place. There was no question in his mind, it was the ghost of Sauron, that haunted the land.

He travelled to the Woodland Realm, where he found the company in bad spirits. King Thranduil was unimpressed with his findings. His army had been battling off the enemy’s forces for years, but still, even he did not believe the shadow of Dol Guldur was, in fact, Sauron. In this, he and Saruman were in agreement. Gandalf for once felt powerless. The Lord Celeborn had sensed, there was no changing their minds. He offered Thranduil assistance, which the latter flatly refused. 

Gandalf, in his innermost thoughts, was disgruntled by this stubborn refusal to see what was obviously there, and in private said so to Lord Celeborn. The Lord understood, but seemed less disturbed, and he explained his reasons.

“My dear friend, this is a tale as old as time. We never wish to see that which we fear. Indeed, not too long ago, it was a meeting such as this, that doomed the fate of Eregion. Oh, how my Lady had thundered upon that council, for years on end, about the darkness of Annatar’s presence. Feanor’s foolish children, blinded by empty riches she called them. She fought valiantly and, in the end, you must know how this hurts me to admit, her friendship with the dwarves of Moria granted us a safe departure. We cannot make choices for others, we can only observe, as you well know. All that remains for us to do, is wait, and see how the events will unfold.” 

Gandalf knew this to be true, so he did not press the Lord. “It will be with displeasure, the Lady Galadriel will receive the news, I’m certain. Please, do offer her my greetings, for while I would wish to follow you to Lorien, I’m afraid my mind will not rest, unless I find a way around these troubles.”

“That wish I can easily grant” the Lord replied. They stayed in silence for a while. Thranduil’s forest was calm, unlike the minds of its guests. Gandalf sensed the change in the Lord’s peace and gave him the time he needed to speak his mind.

“My Lady I’m afraid, will be much less surprised, or displeased, than I would wish. Indeed, she grows resigned, as each day passes, and longs for an unwelcoming sea. Your task I know is great, but try to come and visit us, for she values your friendship greatly, and I believe it would do her good to speak with you.”

At this Gandalf readily agreed, and tried to suppress a shudder at the thought of a middle-Earth without the blessing of the Lady’s Light.

* * *

 

As the lady had foreseen, a chance meeting had not been meant to be. For it was another 400 years, before they managed to be again in the company of each other. As they had seen all those years ago, the Enemy’s return was upon them, and in Lindon, the Wise once again gathered. The serious nature of the events that brought them there was lost to none, but in all that grief, Gandalf could not help the happiness that overtook him, when the Lord and Lady of Lorien arrived. And in her brilliant smile once her eyes met his, he found his happiness answered.

Such was the joy of this blessed reunion, he managed to survive the hours it took the council of the Elders to settle without much trouble. He would steal glances at the Lady, who watched with a serenity that spoke of millennia spent in discourse, and yet, whenever her gaze fell upon his, mischief shone in her bright eyes. She had a plan, he was not privy to and he would swear, she took great enjoyment in the fact that her time worn power far surpasses his in this world, where, apparently, he must keep it all contained. Strangely, in all his worries and troubles it gave him happiness to find that, in some small way, he added to hers. 

Imagine his surprise when his dear friend brought him to a place he never wanted to find himself in, the centre of attention. She remained quiet, as was her way, for most of the beginning of the procedures. When the time came, to choose a head for this council, the lady elegantly placed her hands, fingers intertwined, upon the table and all noise seemed to cease, as all in attendance realised, the Lady Galadriel wished to speak. Oh, how he wished she had told him of her plan, to suggest him as head of the council, for he would have advised her against such a proposal. To his utter shock, and dismay, many of the Lords listened intently as the Lady explained the reasons for this choice of hers, he could see, their nods of approval, Lord Celeborn, of course, and Lord Elrond, Lord Cirdan and some others as well.

He would never dare, never think of interrupting her, and he allowed her to present her thoughts in full. As all heads turned to him awaiting his response, he dreaded her fury, but still left place in his heart where he was grateful, nay, honoured, to be presented with so much respect. One look at Saruman made the final decision and without any hesitation, he expressed his gratitude to the Lady Galadriel, but respectfully declined the role, presenting the head of his order as an obvious choice, given he was the wisest, most knowledgeable among the wizards, while Gandalf himself was more prone to wander, such was his nature. 

All agreed, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel somewhat begrudgingly, and thus, the White Council was formed, with Saruman the White as its head. While discussion began on what the next move against the enemy shall be, Gandalf could feel the undercurrent tensions vibrating in the air. He could feel Saruman’s resentment, even if he could not understand it, and the Lady had grown quiet, more so than usual, and watched Saruman with singular intensity, which was perhaps, not perceived by most others.

It was quite later during this visit, that they got a moment alone. She did not even need to voice her displeasure, it was evident in the tingles under his skin. She gave the appearance of a person entirely unperturbed by the events of the day, but he knew better. 

“I know why you did what you did. Indeed, my Lord and I discussed it. At length, even before we left Lorien. We have to return tomorrow, for the forest cannot remain bereft of both of us for long. Not that our presence was particularly needed here. It has become an obligation really, to offer council that has no hope at being followed. So many times, we have gone down this path.” All this was said calmly, and with a faraway look into the lady’s eyes, for she was not entirely present. 

“The situation seems hardly that dreary my Lady. I did mean it, your trust in me honours me greatly, but Lord Saruman will lead this Council wisely.”

There it was again, that look which promised knowledge he was not privy to, secrets he would never dream of uncovering.

“I am aware of your nature, Mithrandir. Wandering, steadfast, loyal. Therefore, I have decided to place my trust in you, and hope, as I ever have.” She turned to leave as she uttered her parting words. “There’s great allure in power and darkness, it can drown even the wisest of men. I believe, I shall remain in Lorien, I can feel the shadows growing. Keeping the darkness at bay will become an even greater task without the utter disappointment that comes with attending political meetings. I sense the Lord Saruman will keep your wanderings far, and long, do not let the perils of the world erase the memory of light that I know, exists in your heart”. An image of a blinding beacon assaulted his senses, all-encompassing and wonderful and in it he was lost. When he came to the lady was gone, and he was left with more questions than ever.


End file.
